Aspasia Williams and the Sea of the Stars
by out.of.sea.into.woods
Summary: Since the siege of the Desert, Chaos has not stirred. Now, Aspasia has been sent to Percy Jackson's Academy for Demigods. Against the backdrop of teenage hatred and rising tension with Aaron Jackson, there is something dark coming, humming in Aspasia's soul. A cry is coming from the Wild: Something is killing the stars.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Here's "The Sea of the Stars"! I'm so excited for this and it's just going to be great. Just for a note, I will indicate which chapters are from Aaron's point of view or Aspasia's.**

**This will probably make no sense without reading the first two, so that might help.**

**Here you go.**

**Still don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 1

_Aspasia_

The snow is crisp against the breathtaking morning sky. Tinged with traces of coral and gold, each snowflake plays it's part in winter as they dance down to earth. New York is smoking, trapped in it's hazy gauze. From my car window, I smile softly as my breath fogs up on the glass.

Argus is driving me to the Academy, my bag tosses in the empty seats beside me. It's just us, the sound of our breathing in the empty van. I try not to be freaked out by the hundreds of eyes staring at me. The roads are crowded, even at dawn in January.

By seven in the morning, we get to the Academy. It's a tall, grandiose building, with tall windows and immaculate lawns. I've been told it has three floors, a basement level, and three wings, along with an arena and several other amenities.

I push in my ear buds, letting the rhythmic bass drown out my thoughts.

I slide open the van door, sliding out with my bag hooked over my shoulder. "Thanks, Argus." I say. He nods, his eyes blinking sporadically. Awkwardly, I close the door and he drives off.

_Goodbye, Camp_. I think, turning back to face the school. "Hello, real world." I mutter.

"Hey!" A friendly voice calls. The big front door is opening, revealing a very tired Percy Jackson, scruffy with an early morning smile. He's wearing a dress shirt, a tie, and a thick sweater, matched with new seven o'clock shadow. Walking down the steps, he takes my bag for me. "Welcome to the Academy." He doesn't hesitate to hug me and I let him, reciprocating for a moment.

"Come on," Percy leads me inside. "I'll show you to your room. You can settle in before classes start." The main hall is cavernous, glowing with soft light reflected off the polished marble of the floor. A chandelier glitters from the roof.

"Wow." Even with a whisper, my voice echoes.

"Yeah. Annabeth did all this. I didn't care either way, but I will admit, it looks nice." He heads up the plush stairs. "Come on. This way" I follow quietly, my footsteps muted against the thick carpet.

The Academy is beautiful, I'll give it that. But I take in the beauty quietly, with submission. I was suppose to come at the beginning of the school year in August, but after a great deal of shameless begging to Chiron, I managed to postpone the transfer till now. I thought that spending an extra four months at camp would get me in _the know _about what was to be done about Chaos. About taking next steps and making plans. Instead, I got four months of cold shoulders and polite words. Also, alone. Yeah, a lot of alone. So, in the crisp morning hours of January, I have arrived at Hell.

Percy leads me down the halls, dim with the morning light. He speaks in a whisper when he tells me, "The wings are divided up by gender. You'll be in the East wing."

_Communal bedrooms_, I cringe internally. _Shared bathrooms. __**People**_.

Almost on cue, Percy says, "This isn't in the rules, but I managed to get you your own room." A burst of hope. "It's a little small." He leads me to the first door of a long hall. "And a little... _Prison-_esque." He opened the door and the hope died.

By _prison-esque_, I assume Percy meant that it may or may not be designed to be identical to an insane asylum room. Besides a steel framed cot smack dab in the middle of the room and a small, black cabinet, the room is barren, the gray walls blurring together. There is a small window on the far wall, letting in white light. The ceiling is dented with the imprint of the stairs above them.

"I'm under the staircase." I can only say."

"Yeah." Percy sets my bag on the ground. "Unfortunately, it's the only _single_ room and it just so _happens_ to be under the stair case to the roof." He chuckles. "A regular Harry Potter."

"What?"

"Never mind," He says with a sigh. "It's not that big I know... I can put you in with the other girls if you would-"

"_No_!" I shout, a little too loud for the tiny room. "No, thank you. I... I prefer, ya know. Being alone." I smile softly.

"I got ya." Percy nods, scratching his beard. "Well, breakfast is at eight, so I'll see you there?" I nod. He smiles and squeezes by to leave, but turns back and says, "He wanted to be here. Ya know, to meet you or whatever. But I told him not to. He has a big test today and-" Percy shrugs. "But I thought you'd like to know."

I nod in gratitude and, as Percy leaves, I close the door, which gives off the most magnificent squeak. I run a hand through my hair, pulling out my ear buds and taking off my coat, setting it on the bed.

I think about my meeting with Aaron, what it will be like. We've talked (whether through IM or phone) almost every day since he left camp. Always wonderful and bright and full of life and vigor and it reminds me of why I came to the Academy, why I really came. Yesterday, he was downright giddy with my eminent arrival in the city.

"You'll love it." He said. "You'll love it so much. It's gonna be great." I just smiled and nodded.

I lay down on my bed, sighing. I'm not tired, but I still close my eyes and listen to my own breathing. A headache begins to press up against my skull and I try to massage it away. I've been in the city for a total of ten minutes, and it already feels like an elephant is stepping on my head.

But, I try to understand Chiron's motives. Chaos is coming, and if he and Mr. D and Annabeth are truly planning the next step, they don't have time to take care of me. And at the school, I can learn skills that will help me, undoubtedly.

I still can't shake the feeling of betrayal.

After a while, I start hearing noises, the sound of tired voices calling to one another, of water running, doors opening and closing. The Academy is waking, I suppose. I look at my watch and it reads 7:25. I sigh and try and clear my head.

My phone buzzes.

"UGH!" I sit up, pawing at my coat for my pocket. "Really, gods, come..." I fumble with opening it, opening the message. Aaron insisted on me having a phone, but I managed to convince him I only needed the type of phone elderly people have. Turns out, I can barely work _that_.

Finally, I push the right button and open the message. It's from Aaron, reading:

U here?

I text back.

In my room.

Almost immediately,

COME TO THE MESS HALL.

I smile and, without responding, walk out of the room, wondering where in the world the mess hall is.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own PJO.**

CHAPTER 2

_Aspasia_

I'm speed walking down the halls, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact with everyone. No one really pays me any attention, but I still tread quietly. I smooth the wrinkles in my white blouse, wondering if my breath still smells like the cold pizza I had for breakfast. At the top of the stairs, I stop, because there he is.

Aaron is waiting there, back towards be, arms crossed, probably making that adorable impatient face he has. He's wearing a gray long-sleeve shirt, with brown pants and a sturdy pair of boots. Yes, we've talked over the break. But it's not like seeing him, knowing he's right there, being comforted by his _thereness_. He doesn't turn around, so I end up spoiling the moment by saying, "Hey."

He turns around instantly and his face melts into a delicious sort of smile. "Hey." He's a shade paler, his hair a little shaggier, but still styled into that meticulously messy look that I think is so pretentious, but it's beautiful right now.. He hasn't shaved in a few days, I can tell by the sparse stubble along his strong jawline. But still.

"Hey." I laugh a little, not believing he's really there. And not knowing how to go from separation to together in an instant.

A laugh from him. Gods, his laugh. "Hey."

I smile big, biting my bottom lip. After a moment, I race down the stairs, and he races up them. When we meet in the middle, I throw myself into his arms. He stumbles a bit, but manages to get a grip on me. I bury my face into his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. Old Spi- Wait, it's Axe. Huh, he switched brands. But underneath it, there's the smell of his skin and the tang of his sweat. His skin is smooth against my skin, warming, like a miniature sun. His hand is pressed against my back, another wrapped around my waist. His breath tickles my ear as he says, "Hey."

I shake my head fondly and pull back, brushing back a few stray locks of hair from my vision. His eyes glow sweetly and I can't help but kiss him. It's our first kiss, our first kiss back. His lips are full and soft under mine, but there's a strange edge to this kiss, a disjointed-ness. But it only makes me kiss him harder.

"Hey! Aaron!" A shrill voice calls. We separate, Aaron rolling his eyes and my cheeks burning. Aaron turns to face a girl with caramel colored skin, holding hands with a tall boy with shaggy brown hair, standing in the doorway at the back end of the foyer.

"_AARON_!" The girl calls teasingly. "_P-D-AAAA_!" Aaron laughs and shakes his head. I managed to chortle a bit, without knowing what's funny. The girls walks up to us, the boy in tow.

"So this is the famous Aspahseah." She says, horribly mispronouncing my name with a sort of purposeful carelessness. She's a little pretty, but her nose is far too big and she smiles in a too-broad sort of way that makes me cringe at the sight of her pearly teeth she proudly displays as she leans against the railing.

"As_pasia_." Aaron carefully enunciates.

"Aspasia, right." She says dismissively.

"Aspasia, this is Kristin." Aaron tells me.

I'm about to say hello when she says, "You must be really something to get our Aaron so wrapped up in you like this. He hasn't said a word about anything else since he got back from that goddamn Camp." I'm sure that's meant as a compliment, but my skin grates at the way she says _our_ Aaron.

"And this is Troy." Aaron gestures to the boy, who awkwardly waves to me. I wave back. They both look at me expectantly, like I'm suppose to give them some sort of conversational jewel, but all I can manage is, "So, who are your parents?"

Apparently, by the disgruntled way Kristin furrows her eyebrows and the condescending way Troy chuckles, this was not the right thing to ask.

"Well," Kristin clears her throat. "I'm Apollo."

"Oh." My voice sounds a little disappointed, and I don't mean it too.

"And Troy is clear-sighted."

"You mean," I say slowly. "A mortal?"

Troy laughs. "Sorry." I blush and look at my feet.

There's a moment of awkward silence, where I know they give Aaron weird looks before Kristin says, "Well, we're gonna go get some breakfast. See you in class, Aaron. Nice to meet you... Aspasia."

"You-" But they're walking away too fast for me to finish. "Too." I sigh a little, but Aaron just slips his hand into mine. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's just-"

A passing kid, maybe thirteen cuts him off with a, "Hey, Aaron."

"Hey, man." Aaron shakes his hand jovially. "What's up?"

"Not much." The kid replies with a shrug, giving me a cautionary glance.

"Alright, alright." Aaron nods as the kid walks away.

"Who was that?" I ask slowly.

"Oh, I don't know some kid." Aaron shrugs.

"Then, why-"

"Listen, can we go get breakfast?" He asks. "I haven't eaten and-" He pats his stomach. "Kinda wasting away here."

"Sure." I laugh. He pulls me along slowly, hand still intertwined with mine. He asks me about the ride here and I tell him all the tedious details, somehow getting into how it was at Camp and I end up just spilling everything out to him, every moment. A few weeks ago, I pulled a muscle while practicing. It still aches a bit. Jean hasn't contacted me since he's gone home, somewhere in Virginia or something. Is Charlie good? Have you seen Colette? And most of his answers and simple and clear and short and wonderful and nice.

The cafeteria is painted a dull blue, with long tables running down it's length, filled with loud children. A dull roar makes the very walls vibrate. There are about 125 students eating now, about the entire student body. I picture the almost three hundred kids of Camp and I don't feel so overwhelmed.

"Hey, I'm just gonna run through the line." Aaron gestures to the thick, bustling line of students crowding into a little side room, wafting scents of prepackaged food filling the air. "You want anything?"

"An apple." I call to him as he ambles away. I wait, awkwardly, not knowing what to do with my hands and feeling naked under the eyes that have begun to stare. Despite having been stared at for my entire life, these are _new_ eyes; new judgments, new feelings, new _people_. I try not to make eye contact with anyone, focusing on my faint reflection in the neatly washed linoleum floor.

There.

Just past me, just for a moment. A figure, looking down on my reflection, right behind me. Tall and dark, eyes bright green. His mouth, moving so fast I can't see it clearly. Whispers crowd in my ear, urgently dancing around my head.

"What?" I demand the mirage. "What do you want? What are you trying to tell me? Please, just _talk to me_!"

I've started shouting into the floor, which has earned me many more judgmental stares. I give the crowds of kids, oatmeal running down their chins and eyes full of sanctimonious confusion, a few embarrassed glances, feeling my cheeks warm with a blush. I straighten to my full height, holding my head high. After a moment, the eyes turn away and the roar of early morning conversation comes back full swing. I give the floor a quick glance, only to find the apparition gone.

My father.

Yes, that's who it is. I know it. It has to be. I haven't had many visions since the Desert. Only a few, when I'm lost deep in the woods, surrounded by nature, and then, only fleeting images. Like static on T.V. Whispers lost in the night, figures running in the trees. Never something as close as what just happened.

I try to shake it off, but the heavy weight in my stomach tells me that it can't be good. Something is happening. Something bad. But I have to ignore that now, because here comes Aaron and I have to meet more of his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own PJO. Sorry I haven't been updating recently. I've been having a really, extremely busy few weeks and it's only gonna get worse, so bear with me. Thank you for your patience.**

CHAPTER 3

_Aaron_

After a quick breakfast, I walk Aspasia to our her first class, that she happens to share with me. The classes are all on the main floor, with rooms on the third and training facilities in the basement. The classes are kinda strange, a mixture of normal ones (AP English, Biology, Pre-Calc) and Demigod ones (Mythological History, Beastarium, Battle Tactics). My dad believes that, one day, a student could walk out these doors and live a normal life, totally uninhibited by the supernatural. I think that's just a load of bullshit, but that's me.

Down the West Wing, Aspasia and I walk into our Beastarium class. There are already a good twelve people in class, lounging around and talking loudly. Aspasia pulls herself a centimeter closer to me, her grip on my hand tight. I suppress an eye roll. Why can't she just be _okay_ around people?

I take a seat towards the back and Aspasia takes the one next to me, quickly and quietly. The girl sitting on the desk beside her gives Aspasia a glance. Blushing, Aspasia looks down at her desk, rubbing her neck. I understand that meeting new people is hard, but you could put a little effort into it. In her defense, not even the indifferent but familiar faces of Camp are here. Most campers come to the camper, but those with mortal parents who think they can forget about the _strange_ side of their child by putting them in mortal school don't approve of the Academy. And not all Academy students go to Camp, those who now have _two_ mortal parents and can't quite make up a reason for spending all summer at a strawberry farm.

The bell rang and the class settled down as Ms. Menchiari made her way in. She was a tall, lanky women with a wild frizz of red hair framing her thin face.

"_Good_ morning, students!" She said shrilly, her glasses magnifying her eyes to dominate her face. "I'm happy to see _all_ of your happy faces on the first day of second semester!" She scurried over to her podium, calling out roll. Aspasia gives me a look from the corner of her eye.

"Um... _Ah-spah-cee-ah _Williams?" Ms. Menchiari butchers Aspasia's name, making her wince. The class subtle looks back at her.

"Um, _here_." Aspasia raises her hand. "And, uh-" Aspasia seems to notice the stares of everyone and her mouth clamps down into a hard, thin line.

"It's actually _Uh-spay-cee-ah_." I jump in for her. Aspasia gives me a weird look, but I try and ignore it. She can thank me later.

"Right, quite right." Ms. Menchiari mumbles. "A peculiar name. Quite peculiar." There's a pause where you expect her to say something like, "But lovely," or something to that effect. But she just goes on and calls out, "Teri Zrull?"

I glance over at Aspasia, and sigh with what I see. She's shut off, her face is stony and emotionless. It's the face she gets when she's feeling _too much_. Instead of just dealing with it, she just bottles it all up. She won't even glance at me, and I settle back into my seat, rolling my eyes.

"Alright, everyone!" Ms. Menchiari chirps. "Let's have a volunteer or two to pass out the textbooks and we'll dive right in, shall we?" A couple students hand out the beaten, weathered brown _Beasts of the World_ textbook. I run my hand over the grainy cover. The words are stretched out and a bit grand, with an insignia of a bright blue eye in the middle. Even faded, the eye is a bit jarring.

"Now, open up to page six." The rustling of pages fills the air. "We will be starting the year with examining the creatures of the woods. But first," She ambles down between the rows, her noisy red hair held back by a colorful scarf. "Can anyone tell me _how_ we classify beasts?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Aspasia's eyebrows furrow in confusion. I can't help but feel a bit pleased. Finally, she won't be top dog anymore. Finally, we've found something to confound her. Ugh, I just used confound. How _Aspasia_ of me.

A boy in the front named Ben Wilson raises his hand. "Yes, Benjamin." Ms. Menchiari says.

"Well," Ben answers. "A beast is a creature-"

"Oh, you'll have to do better than that." Ms. Menchiari says breezily.

"A _creature_ with less than human intelligence." Ben finishes, a bit annoyed. "Anything without sentience."

"Co_rr_ect." Ms. Menchiari trills. "But how do we define sentience?" Silence. "Anyone? How about you?" She calls on a girl named Cora, sitting by the window.

With a groan, Cora manages, "Um, well... Self aware?"

"YES!" Ms. Menchiari rejoiced with a little too much enthusiasm. "Self awareness. Consciousness. This is how we separate Beasts from Humanoids and Spirits, which I'm sure you studied in your other classes." I look over at Aspasia, a layer of confusion breaking through her mask. I feel a little bad for her, being in this totally new system with all this new information and people and things.

"Now, the first specimen you will see on the page is a _hind_." The picture is fairly old, showing a stag that looks creepily like Argent, only sterner (if that's possible). "Can anyone tell me who the hind is sacred to?"

_Please_, I desperately pray. _Please, don't raise your hand. Don't say anything. Gods, Aspasia, please-_

"Yes, Ms. Aspasia?" Ms. Menchiari says. I suppress a groan.

"Artemis." Aspasia responds, her voice weird and different.

"Very good! Now-"

"But they're not _beasts_." Aspasia interjects with a bit of a frown. I clench my hands into fists.

"Excuse me?"

"If we're calling beasts anything without sentience, hinds aren't beasts. They can think, they're smart."

"Well," Ms. Menchiari coughs. "I'm sure they're very clever, but the classification system-"

"They're _not_ beasts." Aspasia says firmly. Her eyes a glowing now, which is never a good sign.

"Oh gods..." I murmur quietly. But of course, with her super freaky hearing, Aspasia, locks her withering gaze on me. I hold out my hands in defense, but stay silent.

"Ms. Aspasia." Ms. Menchiari says awkwardly. "The textbook clearly says-"

"Well, the textbook is wrong."

"Huh." Ms. Menchiari chuckles. "And who are you to say this?"

"Aspasia Williams." Aspasia raises her chin proudly. "Daughter of Artemis." The classroom gives hushed giggles and murmurs. Sitting there, looking regal like a queen, Aspasia is jarring against the peeling paint of the wall and the smell of sweat and mold.

"Oh." Ms. Menchiari manages, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Well, I see then, um..." There's an awkward pause, where grins crack across everyone's faces and eyebrows are raised in questioning. Aspasia seems to catch herself and draws back down into her seat, her mask returning to her face.

"Well... Let's move... Move on." Ms. Menchiari stammers. "Can anyone tell me the abilities of a hind?"


End file.
